Before Jack
by Josephine-Dawson
Summary: The Rose begins to wither, a year before the Titanic sets sail. Can Rose keep her head afloat with both an oppressive Mother and an unfaithful fiancé? All this before the tragedy, before the love, before the death, before Jack.
1. A Rose In Bloom

**Before Jack**

**A Rose in Bloom**

Rose gathered her belongings from her posh London flat as her mother paced in the corridor.

"Your father left us nothing. How will we pay the debts he's acquired over the last 3 years?" Ruth Dewitt-Bukator pondered aloud.

Rose stared off into space. She often dazed off when her mother went on conversing like she did today. She found much of what her mother spoke drivel and never really gave Ruth the credibility a daughter should. Rose often thought she was wrong to be so obstinate and uncompromising at a young age but felt she was being true to her nature. She also knew that life was too short to compromise.

'Your daughter is recalcitrant, you know that Henry. Finishing school has not tamed her as it has the Claybourne's girl. I fear one day she will defy me and I will be powerless to stop her. You spoil her so.' Ruth often argued.

'Rubbish,' Henry would tell his wife. 'Tis' a father's duty to indulge his daughter.'

Henry had always sided with his daughter but now that he was gone Rose knew she had to make amends with her mother. Ruth often enjoyed persecuting her daughter and never concealed her disapproval of Rose's vivacity. Rose only felt pain now.

The rain poured down wildly outside and tapped against her window. Rose flipped through a book of published poetry but none of it called out to her. She closed the book and stared at the pattern on the cover. Red roses adorned the 1911 hardcover.

"Mother, I have packed the suitcases accordingly." Rose stated.

"How gracious dear." Ruth answered sarcastically.

At that moment Francesca, the Bukator's maid, scurried in. She had a handful of garments that had just been picked up from the tailor's shop. They were evening dresses recently purchased from the ever famous department store Harrods. Rose enjoyed looking at the dresses on the manikins but it was quite a different story when she had to wear them. The Bukator's had a penchant for fine and expensive things and the garments were none the less. Ruth had insisted on buying them despite their rather poor financial situation. Rose watched Francesca's expression change as she arranged them in the cupboard.

"It wouldn't take long to acquire the affections of a chap with a beautiful frock like this." Francesca said.

Rose was appalled but said nothing. She sat silent as she was taught to do by the many finishing schools she had attended in her youth. At 16 Rose was beautiful. Yet when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a trapped little girl with no one who understood her, no one who cared.

"Tea is served." Francesca offered.

"No thank-you." Rose remarked.

Ruth appeared in doorway as Francesca reluctantly curtsied.

"Tea is served ma'am," Francesca reiterated. "Although the missus will not be having any."

"Suit yourself." Ruth scolded as she walked away. Francesca winked at Rose and followed Mrs. Dewitt-Bukator out of the room.

Rose lay down on her white laced pillow and closed her eyes.

"Rose darling," Ruth melodiously chanted the next afternoon. "Please let me see what you look like in the blue dress I selected for you. The shoes were delivered earlier." Ruth declared ecstatically.

Rose was bewildered by the change in her mother's behavior. Yesterday she had been quite sour but today she seemed rather at ease. Rose obeyed her mother's instructions and appeared in the lounge adorned by the Harrods' garment.

"Flawless." Ruth beamed.

"Thank-you mother, it is a beautiful dress" Rose smiled.

"Come, sit beside me love." Ruth asked.

Rose walked over to her mother, tucked her dress neatly behind her and sat down beside Ruth. Her mother's green eyes looked especially spirited today. Ruth and Rose looked distinctly alike with their fiery red hair. It was obvious Rose had inherited her mother's good looks; although also apparent her temperament was more like her father's.

"Rose, I want you to know, you and I will survive this together." Ruth said. "Your father's death has not been easy on me, nor on you." Ruth carried on, "The only thing that that sets my heart at ease in knowing I have you Rose."

The rest of the night was spent reminiscing about Rose's childhood, her ballet efforts and the Dewitt-Bukator's travels to New York. Francesca even brought out the family album for the two women to peruse while they conversed.

Rose went to sleep that night with a warm feeling in her heart. Maybe the void she had been feeling could be filled by her own mother. The woman, who had always appeared distant, may very well have deceived her.

Over the next fortnight Rose and Ruth had relocated themselves into a quant flat with two bedrooms. Francesca had spent an awful amount of time making the quarters as comfortable as possible although it was difficult to utilize the small space. Their former flat had been spacious and easy to decorate.

Rose and Ruth spent the evening at a play in London. After that they dined out and returned home shortly before 9. Rose was about to fall asleep when she became aware of a loud commotion in the living room. It was Francesca, sobbing loudly.

"Why miss, why?" Francesca protested. Francesca's sobs waned as she departed the to the kitchen.

"Rose, will you prepare tea?" Ruth asked.

"Yes mother." Rose went into the kitchen and instantly familiarized herself with the place. Rose was accustomed to being waited on as her youth had been one of great privy.

Francesca began sobbing again. Rose felt disheartened and placed her hand on Francesca's back as she cried in despair.

"Where will I find work so late in the year?" Francesca wailed.

"It will be alright, I promise." Rose assured her. "You will find something, you have too."

"I suppose so ma'am." Francesca replied wiping her eyes.

The morning came and Rose was not surprised to find Francesca gone. She gazed at the flat still unfamiliar with the place.

"Rose your behavior last night left something to be desired of.." Ruth sharply asserted. ".to comfort someone is one thing but to entertain such a lack of decorum is another."

A tear welled up in Rose's eye as she brushed her hair.


	2. A Heart to Heart with Mother

A/N: This story takes place before Jack and Rose met. This is my perspective of what might have driven Rose to attempt suicide the very same act which brought her to Jack.

**Before Jack**

**A Heart To Heart With Mother**

"Rose, tonight is a big day for us." Ruth explained. "Remember the Dewitt- Bukator name is still held with high regard. It has obtained us an invitation to Mr. Hockley's estate; father of Cal Hockley. You know he has spoken affectionately of you in the past."

"Cal Hockley" Rose uttered disappointingly. As if the mere sound of the words burnt her skin.

"Cal is a prize, one you must win." Ruth laughed.

Cal Hockley, the air to the Hockley estate. Rose wondered what was going through her mother's mind and it wasn't hard to figure it out.

"Mother, I am not ready to meet anyone. Let alone." Rose's voice trailed of.

"An opportunity like this is rare Rose." Ruth shot back. "It is our only chance to redeem ourselves. Present yourself as best as you can tonight. If you fail to do this, all will be lost."

Rose couldn't believe what she had just heard. She felt betrayed. Her feelings of betrayal and despair weighed heavily on her. Rose knew that her mother was implying marriage. A union between Rose and Cal. How could her mother be so cruel? Rose wanted to cry herself to sleep but the dinner was tonight.

She gathered all the energy she could and prepared herself like a dish. Ready to be consumed by Cal. Rose curled her hair until small tendrils formed. She put on the Harrods dress and applied rouge to her high cheek bones. Although Rose had not a pence to her name she looked like a million pounds.

The Hockley's owned a residence in the countryside but were having the cotillion at their London residence. The rooms were bright and lively and dancing music was being played by an orchestra. The most beautiful young women danced and talked all hoping to catch Hockley's eye and become the future Mrs. Hockley.

Rose stood beside the refreshments and heartily sipped on red wine. She was about to go look for her mother when someone collided with her. Rose's crystal glass slipped from out of her hand and the contents fell onto a man's pristine attire. Rose gasped as she glanced up at the man. He stood 6 feet tall and was exceptionally handsome. Unable to control her whim Rose burst out in laughter.

"What are you-Rose?" The tall man questioned.

"No I am not Rose you must be suffering from intoxication" Rose answered.

Cal joined in laughing.

"What a mess you've made; all in the pursuit of droll I hope." Cal belted out.

"No in the pursuit of intoxication" Rose answered.

Rose had begun to feel awkward and a crowd was gathering around herself and Cal. The idea of the two of them being seen together bothered Rose. She knew that Hockley was worth a fortune but one could not mind the things said about his character. The dishonorable banter spoken about Cal had over a time been burnt indelibly into her head.

I've heard that he's rather a ladies man. Elizabeth had once said. Did you ever hear that Hockley had a relationship with a young woman; and after it jilted he paid her to leave town and never speak of it again. Another acquaintance had added.

Rose closed her eyes.

"Pardon me; I will return as soon as I ..." Cal explained looking down at his soiled shirt.

"Alright." Rose smiled appealingly.

Rose turned her head to see her mother breaking through the crowd of onlookers.

"You stupid girl." Ruth said starting to raise her hand but stopping dead in her tracks.

"Really, Mrs. Dewitt-Bukator I didn't quite like that jacket to begin with." said Cal reappearing.

"Oh well-I" said Ruth speechless. "I really must go finish my conversation with Mrs. Rantoir."

"Right Mother." said Rose the sides of her mouth twitching.

Once Ruth left Cal raised his eyebrows and swept away invisible seat from his forehead. Rose let out a hearty laugh thinking that Cal might not be quite so bad after all.


	3. A Lucid Dream

_Disclaimer: I do not own Titanic or any other characters in the story. They are the sole property of James Cameron. _

_A/N: This is for my sister. Check out some of her stories. Her pen name is WriterzCramp Take my advice they are a lot better than mine! Please r&r my story!_

**Before Jack**

**A Lucid Dream**

"Will you marry me?" Cal Hockley asked sincerely gazing into Rose's anxious eyes. Cal held up a sparkling oval cut diamond set within a silver band.

His eyes were shining almost as bright as the diamond itself. Cal shifted impatiently from one knee to the other as he waited for her to speak.

"It's breathtaking but I wasn't..." Rose began to mutter when she was interrupted.

"Of course you weren't dear. Who would expect a bachelor as highly sought as Cal to bestow them with the honor of hand in marriage?" Ruth said smiling as a tear welled up in her eye.

Rose knew those tears all too well, crocodile tears. The same tears Ruth had cried at her father funeral. Rose's thoughts drifted back to the day her father had died. Henry Dewitt Bukator had lost all his money after loaning it to his brother Richard. Richard had foolishly invested over $120, 000 of the Dewitt-Bukator's life savings with a furniture dealer who conveniently absconded after defrauding several other aristocrats. The news was too shocking for an ailing man of 60 with a heart condition. Henry died of heart failure. But the real tragedy was the way Ruth had mourned him, swiftly.

"I accept, Cal." Rose said amazing herself she was capable of such deceit.

"Good, it's not refundable." Cal said calmly.

Rose held out her dainty hand.

That night Rose mused through sheet music belonging to her father and played a few notes at the piano. _Fur Elise_ was one of her favorite pieces because of the romance intertwined with it. Rose knew deep down that no one would ever love her that way, _especially_ one, Cal Hockley.

Bored at the piano she sipped a brandy and headed towards the balcony. As the liquor started to warm her body, intoxication began to consume her. The flat was high up and looked over the city of London. Rose began to lean over trying to imagine what it would be like to jump off and end her difficult life. She stepped back slightly and lost her footing, falling backwards onto the balcony floor. Rose closed her eyes and a warm feeling enveloped her. A strange figure was walking towards her with hair that burned like the sun and eyes that shone like the sky. Rose wanted to reach out to him but he suddenly stopped walking. His mouth opened and a muffled sound escaped. The words resounded in her mind.

Rose's eyes fluttered open as she tried to remember what he had said. Then it all came back to her. "I love you Rose."


	4. A Matrimony, Maid & Mistress

**Before Jack**

**A Matrimony, Maid & Mistress**

Rose who'd experienced a seemingly lonely childhood was now at the threshold of her adulthood. Girls she'd grown up with were blossoming in front of her very own eyes yet she knew _her despair_ was not a fleeting sensation. Deep down Rose wanted to live life to the fullest, to make everyday count, yet something held her back.

"Lavender" Ruth gasped. "I know it's your wedding dear, but you can't be serious." She stammered on incessantly. "Mark my words; you won't be content until you're the laughing stock of all of Philadelphia."

"Your precious Cal has already approved my choice of Lavender for the bridesmaid's gowns Mother." Rose remarked cheekily.

Ruth glared at her daughter. Customers in the Harrods Department store started to notice the commotion between the mother and daughter and began whispering among themselves. Rose cheeks flushed. Mother had won again.

Rose knew that time was of essence since her Wedding to the well-to-do Cal Hockley was merely 6 months away. So she planned to spend as much as time as possible with her closest companion, Elizabeth Caulfield.

"Isn't it fascinating, women protesting for the right to vote. I absolutely love it." Elizabeth squealed delightfully as her curly blond hair bounced.

"Women voting, it's unprecedented Lizzy. Though, I certainly would like to have the chance someday." Rose chimed in ecstatically devouring a spot of tea.

Elizabeth continued perusing through a newspaper she had brought. Her blue eyes widened as a newspaper headline drew her attention. "The White Star Line claim to have built an unsinkable ship." Elizabeth read. "What...really?" Rose answered still not listening.

As soon as Elizabeth had left, Rose heard a loud thud originating from the front door.

"My word." Rose cried as she swung open the door.

"Good'ay Missus," said Francesca smiling. "I have a good reason for being here."

"No, no, Francesca! It's wonderful to see you again," said Rose smiling, still shocked seeing her departed maid at her doorstep. "Please, come in."

Once Rose and Francesca had seated themselves in the living room Francesca began to speak.

"When your Mother let me go, I went in search for work. With all my luck I came upon the Hockley's, I've been working there ever since, and I've come to know some things, some things about Mr. Caledon Hockley," said Francesca nervously. "Maybe, maybe I should just go." She said getting up, shaking.

"No," said Rose firmly. Rose had a feeling what she was about to hear was just the thing she needed to get out of her matrimony to Cal, and to get back at her Mother. "Go on, please."

Francesca seated herself slowly and paused before speaking again.

"He has a mistress, Rose. A woman he's been fooling around with her ever since the two of you became engaged.

"My God." Rose stirred. Her eyes scanning all four corners of the walls.

"I wasn't sure if you would believe me, but, I knew you were different. I knew that you would." Said Francesca sadly.

"You have no idea what this means to me." Said Rose.

"I'm-I'm sorry missus. I shouldn't have told you. I-I knew it was a silly idea." Said Francesca hitting her head with her fist.

"No, don't be sorry. What you've just told me is ...Thank you." Rose said breaking down in tears of joy.

"Oh!" Francesca wailed. "I should be getting back Miss Rose" Francesca muttered. With one last smile she let herself out leaving a tearful but hopeful Rose behind.


	5. Lights, Camera, Action!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update my story. This chapter in Rose's life happens shortly before the Titanic sets sail in 1912, before the tragedy and loss of life and most importantly, **_Before Jack_**. Enjoy!

**Before Jack**

**Lights, Camera, Action…**

Rose, puzzled by her brief but insightful discussion with Francesca, paced the living room eagerly, anticipating her mother's arrival.

"_He has a mistress, Rose. A woman he's been fooling around with her ever since the two of you became engaged_." Rose recalled.

Rose sobbed, tears sliding down her face. If she ever became an actress, with all the dilemmas in her life, she'd have no trouble crying on the spot. Just then her mother stormed in, battling her **_brolie_** shut and closing the door on the heavy rain. In recent events, Rose had felt suffocated; but her dreams had been a great relief to her.

She thought back to the voice that had spoken to her. "_I love you Rose."_ The figure who had hair that burned like the sun, and eyes that dazzled like the blue-green seas. Suddenly a glimmer of hope surfaced, maybe after all she would prevail.

Apparently, the longtime Dewitt-Bukator employee had handed Rose a legitimate reason to sever the engagement with Cal. No women in her right mind would marry a man capable of such deceit; surely her mother would see this and agree.

"Rose, you'd pass out if you knew how hard the rain is pelting outside, it's unbearable," Ruth said, dramatically brushing droplets of water off of her pristine fur coat. _Not more unbearable then it is living with you, Mother. _Rose thought.

Rose ached for a day when she could be free of her mother's clenches. Maybe she could become a moving picture actress. It was hard to ignore that Rose was a rare bijou. A room could be filled with beautiful dames, but when she walked in, heads turned to get a glimpse of the stunning American Beauty. Her mother had taken it as an opportunity to flaunt an unsuspecting Rose in front of London's wealthiest, in hopes of acquiring a proposal.

"And how is the soon to be Mrs. Caledon Hockley?" Ruth mused, as she patted her thin red hair dry.

"Mother, something urgent has happened. Something has been brought to my attention…." Rose stammered.

"What might that be?" Ruth calmly inquired.

"It's Cal. He's been seen with another woman." Rose stated passionately.

"Ha, that's absurd," Ruth said, dismissing her daughter. "Not our Cal. He comes from a good family, Darling. Don't be mislead by the meaningless banter printed in the newspapers." Ruth stated condescendingly.

"He's been engaging in fornication mother. It's not the first time, he's been…." Rose retaliated back, loosing courage at the last moment.

"Shut up!" Ruth fumed. "Stop this lunacy this instant! How dare you jeopardize what may well be our only chance to survive!"

"But Mother–" Rose protested.

"Let him have as many bastards as he wants. All I care for is that you marry him, and that we can use the Hockley money to tend to our Dewitt-Bukator comforts." Ruth injected nonchalantly, as her cold eyes glimmered with satisfaction. Rose's eyes began to prickle and a pang of sadness overcame her. She knew another shower of tears was about to follow.

"How could you mother?" Rose sobbed despairingly.

"Where are you…?" Ruth called after as her green eyes widened with anger.

But it was too late. Rose was already out the door and scurrying down the steps into the cold wet London streets, in nothing more then an evening gown.

"Bitch." Rose muttered to herself. Why did she have to be Rose Dewitt-Bukator?

Why couldn't she be a Kitty Claybourne or an Elizabeth Caulfield? Rose detested herself.

After several minutes of brisk walking, she stopped in front of a brightly lit pub and narrowed her eyes. Suddenly she began shivering uncontrollably, and instinctively pushed open the door to relieve her body of the cold. As Rose entered, the sound of the entrance bell resonated throughout the pub.

A group of men immediately began murmuring amongst themselves. Several bouts of laughter emerged from the back of the pub, but were undistinguishable because of a thick blanket of smoke hovering in the middle of the room. Although she was in territory previously un-chartered by a woman, Rose sat calmly at the bar and waited.

"Who knew the queen actually frolicked with the commoners?" A nearby voice jeered. Rose sulked after a few minutes until a filthy looking man about 20 years old approached.

"What can I get you me love?" A warm voice ensued from the alarmingly tall waiter. "Me name is Bill by the way, and you are...?"

"Rose, Rose Dewitt-Bukator, pleased to meet you." Rose whispered, as she glimpsed around the room which was now seemingly quiet. Everyone had got back to their drinking and had quickly forgotten about the unusual visitor.

"Well then Rose, what would you like to drink" Bill inquired.

Rose smiled, "How about a brandy for starters?"

"Why didn't you just ask?" Bill smiled, and came back shortly with a heartily filled glass. "If there's anything else I can get you, don't hesitate to ask, and I shall not hesitate to get it." Bill chuckled as he headed off to serve drinks to a group of men who had shortly arrived. Rose let her body absorb the effects of the brandy, as she replayed the spat with her mother in her mind.

"Excuse me Miss Dewitt-Bukator" A deep voice said. Rose looked up, not certain who the man was at first.

"It's your Uncle Mitchell." The man smiled. Of course, he was certainly not Rose's Uncle, at least by blood, but he had been a dear friend of her father's, whom Rose had known since childhood.

"Mr. Mitchell, how do you do?" Rose hesitated, aware of the implications of being spotted in a pub.

"Frankly, it's you I'm worried about, my dear. What are you doing here? You should be at home. It's rather late to be out –in a tavern I might add." Mr. Mitchell affirmed, as he sat down at an empty chair beside Rose. Mr. Mitchell took his jacket off and placed it snuggly on her damp body.

"How's Ruth? I've been meaning to stop by, but I've been rather preoccupied lately…" Mr. Mitchell's voice trailed off. Rose immediately knew what he meant. He'd been widowed recently; his wife of twenty years had suddenly fallen ill, and had died shortly after. Mr. Mitchell had been stricken with grief. After several minutes of chatting, Mr. Mitchell got up to leave. Rose handed back his coat, and smiled.

"It was nice talking to you; it felt good, like old times." Rose sniffled.

"Yes child, please stop by anytime, I would love to talk with you again. By the way, I'm such a fool; I forgot to congratulate you on your engagement to Mr. Hockley."

Rose nodded and watched Mr. Mitchell walk out the door, and pass the window, until his shadow disappeared into the dark London alleyways.

"So, I guess that means you're spoken for?" A familiar voice chanted. Rose turned around to see the handsome bartender aggressively wiping down the counters.

"Bill, you weren't eavesdropping on my conversation with the good Mr. Mitchell, where you?" Rose asked.

Bill laughed. "Me? Eavesdrop? Why I would never! …Well, maybe just this once!" Bill said, winking at Rose.

"Why do you ask?" Rose smirked, illuminating her high cheek bones.

"Just in case the bloke turns out to be a mug, here's my address," Bill joked. "Cheerio, my Rose."

With that he walked into the storage room and out of sight. Rose glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper which read: Bill Calvert, 952 St. Mary's Close, London.


	6. Beg, Borrow, and Steal

Rose certainly did not want to set foot in the flat she had passionately raced out of a mere hour ago

A/N:

Hi all. I'm a really big fan of the movie titanic. Also I love all things British. Hope you guys like this chapter. It's set shortly before the Titanic sets sail in 1912, before the tragedy and loss of life and most importantly, _**Before Jack**_. Enjoy!

The last thing Rose wanted to do was set foot in the flat she had passionately raced out of a mere hour ago. But at seventeen years Rose's life thusfar had been complied of a multitude of instances of being politely asked to attend an event or to take a tedious piano lesson or drawing class in order to better herself in the eyes of high society. And most recently Rose had been requested to parade herself in front of the wealthy bachelor Cal Hockley. Mother just wasn't so polite about it anymore.

After all Rose was not a child anymore. Anyone who set sight upon her shape could see the womanly curves of her body had taken form. And all the fairy tales her father had whispered to her right before he tucked her away safely as she clung to her doll in their warm and brightly lit house in London were fading away and becoming remnants of a soon to be forgotten childhood.

It was true that shortly after Rose's father had perished, she could almost feel her mother's animosity toward her. But most bizarrely, Ruth was almost incapable to be civil to Rose for even the slightest matter. Marriage was no different story. And now, at seventeen, Rose Dewitt-Bukator stood to marry a man whom she felt slighted toward and could hardly vision as the father of her children. As a young lady Rose had never imagined being in love because she knew that one day her parents would present a suitor to her, and that her faith would be sealed indefinitely. But this hadn't bothered her before, because she had never met anybody in her short life who had bestowed her with unconditional love. Nevertheless, this marriage was too sudden, too unnatural. Rose couldn't settle for a man who had more mistresses then he did money. Although, there was nothing left for her but to lick her wounds and head home she could not help but elongate her journey back and wonder about the ideal man. For Rose, this was a man with a temperament like that of her fathers. A man who could show her things, even places she had never been. And to make matters worse, Cal called on her and her mother for tea last week to tell them that the marriage would take place in Philadelphia. Rose wasn't nearly ecstatic to go back to America. It felt like ages since she'd been back to her birthplace…almost dreamlike. And leaving England would be like leaving the memory of her father. It was too soon for that as she was still grieving the loss. Not to mention all of Rose's friends were here. Her mind drifted off to the shabby but rustically handsome bartender. She'd probably never see the likes of that bloke either if she were to leave England for good.

Rose quietly slipped her key into the keyhole and gently turned the handle in hopes to avoid another encounter with her cruel mother.

"Ah." Ruth's voice echoed. "I knew you'd come home my sweet, once you realized your blunder. Ruth sang from inside the living room.

"You know. I am your mother and I do know what's best for you. If I recall, I was seventeen at one time also. In fact, that was the age I was when I met your darling father, when I fell in love." Ruth exclaimed, happily continuing her one way conversation.

"When you fell in love!" Rose exploded, as she unwillingly broke her silence.

"My sweet red rose. Who is to say you will not grow to love this man, once you give him a child, preferably a son of course." Ruth's eyes grew cold and her voice serious.

Listen, there is nothing worse in this world, then poverty. And you father, no matter what came of him, what his end was, he always provided for me. I have never begged, borrowed or stolen and nor shall you." Ruth's eyes widened her voice trailed off.

"Thank-you for candor on the subject". Rose muttered as she pat of the remaining raindrops from her thoroughly drenched frock and started down the corridor. She had been taught to say only pleasant things no matter the urge to do the opposite. Rose knew that if she sought sympathy she was looking for it in the wrong place. Maybe there wasn't a soul who would care. But maybe somewhere there was.

"Well now what a stunning beauty she is." Hockley senior chuckled in awe as Rose glided across the room in a jewel encrusted custom made gown and matching feathered hair. Rose cleared her throat and smiled. This was her third time being invited to dine with the Hockley's and it still felt as awkward as the first time. She gazed at the grandeur of the estate somewhat dazzled by the spacious grounds.

After shoveling his dinner and drowning it back with several glasses of wine Cal smirked as his eyes skimmed over Rose's body like a greedy child. Rose aware of Cal's provocative behavior shakily rose, and excused herself as she headed toward the ladies room almost wishing her thoughtless mother hadn't suddenly felt to ill to dine tonight. At the dinner table she had left behind her dear friend, from finishing school, Cynthia Darling who she had brought with her in case Cal got out of hand.

Cynthia was a friend of hers and Elizabeth's, and was also very engrossed in the liberation of women. During dinner, she had been trying to convince Mr. Hockley of the benefit of women voting. To this, Hockley senior simply scoffed and said, "a woman could not possible vote because she'd be to busy bearing children and cooking supper to read the newspaper to keep up with politics."

While Rose was checking her appearance in the mirror she heard a shutter. "Cal, you startled me. What are you doing" Rose question her beau, startled to see him in the laboratory.

"I came to see if you wanted anything" Cal smiled calmly as he shut the door behind them.

"No, I'm quite fine. I don't need anything. Thank-you." Rose replied.

"But I do" Cal jeered as he began aggressively kissing Rose's neck.

"Cal this is hardly appropriate. Please stop it." Rose pleaded. But Cal wouldn't stop. He started to unzip her gown but rose resisted. Cal's whole weight was now on Rose and she was backed in to the corner. She pulled away. Cal, not expecting a fight, fell back, but quickly tried to regain his balance, mistakenly pushing over a vase in his attempt.

"Slut, you'll do as I say. Or I'll tell you're mother that the engagement is off." Cal threatened as he proceeded to slap her but stopped when he became aware that the fight in Rose was gone. Rose gulped, and Cal snickered as he came closer to her and resumed kissing her neck roughly.


	7. Hook starLine & Sinker

Rose began to accept her life as one disaster after the next. It was as if even hoping to hope was useless. It had been a fortnight since the incident and Rose, filled with lackluster, had sequestered herself away into the London flat with no desire to ever saunter outside again. Outside of her window Rose gazed onto the busy cobblestone street. The world was changing exponentially due to new inventions, such as the automobile. Rose's world was also changing, hardly for the better. She new that the only constant was change, but somehow it was hard to accept what Cal had done to her that night on his property. She felt hollow and responsible for the rape but as the days passed she instead became numb and indifferent to it. Rose gazed on as an affluent man assisted his young wife into an automobile as a crowd of spectators watched with awe. Moving pictures were the next big thing of course. Rose wondered what kind of stories would be made into moving pictures. Perhaps one of her favorite books Wuthering Heights. Rose's imagined playing the part of Cathy in the moving picture; she imagined the mysterious and ruggedly handsome bartender Bill as the brooding Heathcliff.

"What has got you so disheveled?" Ruth remarked after scrutinizing Rose's unruly appearance. Rose slighting her mother and closed her copy of the Bronte classic, replacing it on the bookshelf.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment for I have done nothing." Ruth stated. "Most daughters would be so grateful if their mother arranged them a marriage, but your not…because you are ungrateful… wretch." Ruth fumbled with a lack of a better word.

At those words, Rose suddenly had a change of heart. She new where she ought to be right now…rather who could cheer her up.

"I'm fine, I just need some fresh air" Rose said finally breaking her silence.

Rose scurried of to her room and began dressing herself. She combed her knotty hair and styled it. Rose turned her head to the right and noticed that she had lost some of her baby fat. She put on a high neck blouse and tie, that hadn't already been packed for the voyage. She thought it complemented the side swirls in her hair. She placed some rouge on her cheek, grabbed her purse and a few shillings she had lifted from her mother's drawer and disappeared for the night. Rose first stopped at a confectionary shop and bought some fags, matches, and a flask of gin. Rose felt satisfied as she filled her empty purse with her new possessions. As she was about to leave her eye caught something in the window that brought a smile to her face.

"Mother would pass out" Rose smirked as she eyed a jade cigarette holder. However the jade holder was much more than she could afford. Rose decided to lift it. Rose re-entered the shop nonchalantly and walked by the newspaper section as she waited for the store owner to turn away or get engrossed in another customer. In a dash a young boy with tattered clothes and rotten teeth came in carrying some boxes that were filled with confectionary items. As the man instructed the young boy where to leave them Rose quickly dropped the holder into her purse. A surge of adrenaline filled her body. Exhilarated, she turned and headed straight for the door.

"Thief" The shop owner shrieked. "That woman pinched something" The shopkeeper shrieked again but this time at a higher decibel. Now on the street, Rose began briskly walking and pushed through some pedestrians that had gathered outside a tailor shop. Rose tried to dodge an oncoming man but failed and he fell flat onto his feet. "Watch it, why don't you" the man scolded while brushing of scuff from his trousers, as his wife tried to help him back on his feet.

"Pardon me" Rose muttered as she bolted down a side street and out of the eyeshot of the shopkeeper. It dawned on Rose that she'd better make herself scarce so she changed her trajectory and headed toward the London Night Tavern. She lit a fag. Suddenly Rose exploded in a bout of coughs as the smoke burned her lungs and caused her diaphragm to expel its presence. "Tastes horrible" Rose stated. Rose was adamant however. She took another drag of the cigarette and this time the burn down her esophagus and lungs was much less displeasing. Rose sulked as she rummaged through her handbag, stopping after she felt what she was looking for. She took the handmade jade cigarette holder out and placed the fag inside. "Splendid" Rose affirmed as she realized she was outside of the London Night Tavern.


End file.
